Imposition Poem by Christopher Parcels

Needy? A weakness.
I will not admit that I
am lonely down here.

This is what I want.
Second-guessing is weak, too.
I guess I’m not strong.

I thought love was strength—
the force that holds your chin up.
Where did it all go?

I left it behind—
forgot to pack it up tight
with the plates, bowls and

other fragile things.
Strong, brittle; weak, unyielding;
study-in-contrast—

clingy, dependent,
I wanted to be alone.
That wish was granted.

I have the quiet
I didn’t have at home,
helping with focus.

But can ideas spring
from nothingness? I’d be me,
with a God complex.

I have the freedom
to do whatever I want—
a green light for sin.

But none to sin with.
And so it goes; juxtaposed
sense of good and bad,

unsure what I want,
needful of some foundation,
a place for my church.